Beneath the Sands
by jackalope78
Summary: An old man's regret.


In the desert on the way home from Calormen, something is picking off the Narnian traveling party, pulling them into the sand.

_Peter was bored, and waiting in Narnia for the Telmarines to gather. With little to do, Peter offered to go over the collection of stories from the time he and his siblings ruled Narnia. He'd always loved history, and now, the idea that he might feature in those historical stories thrilled him. So he delved into the old libraries, and picked at the brains of the old Narnians for any stories they might remember. In one old dusty library he found an account of a trading expedition he'd sent Edmund and Lucy on at the beginning of their reign. He remembered it only because he never could get a straight answer as to what had happened from either of his siblings, and he could never get Lucy, brave Lucy, to travel the deserts again. _

There are many things an old man may regret in his life. Many, many years ago I was a merchant and I knew the trade routes very well. I did considerably well during the reign of Queen Jadis, though being a Son of Adam I never could set foot in Narnia for fear of my life. However the Queen was fond of her silks and spices and so set up a place to trade twice a year on the border between our two countries, Narnia and Archenland. There I could set prices three or four times what others would pay for my goods, as Jadis was jealous of her people and didn't allow them to roam outside her country. I had little competition as there were very few merchants who dared to risk the wrath of the terrible queen.

I assumed, foolishly, that the new children rulers of Narnia would follow the same policy. So in the spring after their ascension, and for once Narnia's spring as well, I went to the appointed trading place with my goods. My fellow merchants, and there were considerably more then before, and I set up our goods and awaited the arrival of our customers, and perhaps a glimpse of one of the new rulers. That year we did very well, but near the end of the week I was approached by a young man who identified himself as King Peter.

"Sir, we have asked our advisors, and they all agree you are a trust worthy and knowledgeable man, so I have a proposition for you."

"I would be delighted to hear it your majesty."

"As I am sure you are aware Narnia has been tragically separated from her neighboring countries for many years now. I wish to rectify that, and perhaps open trade lines of our own. It is my most sincere wish that you would aid us in these efforts."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

"We wish to send a small party through the deserts of Calormen to their capitol, and our advisors have pointed to you as the expert."

To which I replied that I would be happy to help in anyway, and we set up a time for departure as well as negotiated a negligible fee for my services.

If I may interject for a moment, I was young then; greedy, and not eager to loose the income from Narnian trade. I ask that you not hold my actions against me. If I could change what I have done, if my regret could… but no. The past is done. I can only tell my tale.

The party consisted of Kind Edmund and Queen Lucy, four dwarfs, three fauns and myself.

I led our small group down to Calormen, taking as many long and circuitous routes I could think of hoping to make the trip so difficult that Narnians would no longer attempt it. The young King Edmund confronted me about it. He had studied the maps of our land well and wondered about our route. I explained to him that this was the safest way as the old way, the one his map showed, was now a dangerous death trap. Those who traversed the sands between the Kilnie Oasis and the Jampers Oasis were never heard from again. And these routes were the safest way to bypass those two oases.

Readers, I am ashamed to say I was lying through my teeth. Though in order to back up my lies, I told the tales all merchants who traverse those sandy paths tell of the strange creatures that live in the Calormen deserts. The sandwyrm, a creature no one has seen as it lives beneath the sand and occasionally rises up to attack travelling caravans. I'm not sure my tale was believed, though reader I do wish it had been.

However slow one travels, eventually you reach your destination. So in Tashbaan, the dwarfs and fauns did their trading, while King Edmund and Queen Lucy set up diplomatic relations with the Tisroc. I will not bore you with the details as they are not what my story is about. Suffice it to say that things were accomplished and we started on our way back.

Before we began our journey King Edmund confronted me once again, "I've spoken to the Tisroc, and his Vizier they are not aware of any problem that exists anywhere along the shorter trade route the one you warned us against."

Fortunately I was a quick thinker, "My lord, why would the Tisroc concern himself with an underused trading route? For surely it was only lightly traveled during the reign of the White Witch, and the disappearances have truly only started in the past couple of years."

The King gave me a pointed look and replied, "Nonetheless that is the route we will be taking home."

"As Your Highness commands."

And then, oh readers, if I could erase one action, just one, from my life it would be this one. I went to see one of the djinn of Calormen. Creatures of wind and sand they are only legends among my people, much the same way our dryads are in Calormen. Let me assure you reader, they are real. Calormen is full of creatures foreign and strange to those of us in Archenland and Narnia.

I went to see this djinn, a trader with whom I had a good business, in order to ask him….

No, reader, I cannot continue. The weight of what I have done presses to heavily upon me. Perhaps if we continue you will understand and my burden will be relieved.

The first part of our journey back was uneventful. We relaxed and settled into our journey pace. We about halfway through the journey when the first incident happened.

One of the dwarfs, Schlintock, was travelling ahead of us, more anxious then the others to return home. He'd been grumbling the entire journey about sand in his shoes, and about how hot the weather was. Truthfully I was glad to see him ahead of us; it meant fewer complaints for the rest of the party.

It was nearing mid morning, when we usually stopped for the day. Queen Lucy, having some sort of rapport with Schlintock the way she did with most Narnians, was making her way up to his small figure in order to call him back to the rest of the party. There was a strange rumbling sound and the sand beneath the young queen shifted. A few moments later there was a spray of sand where Shlintock was riding and we all heard him scream. We stood frozen for a moment. When the sand settled, Schlintock was no longer there, and we quickly rode forward to the place of his last location. The body of his horse, not a talking horse don't fear that gentle reader, was half buried in the sand, large gashes along his rump and neck. There was plenty of blood staining the sand, but no other trace of the dwarf could be found. Not even his precious mining pick.

No, reader, I don't know why he brought his mining pick into the desert. But that's dwarfs for you.

The other dwarfs did a quick version of their burial ceremony and we moved on to find another camping spot.

Do I need to tell you reader that the main debate while we were eating was whether to turn back or continue on? The closest oasis, and we were running a bit low on water, was within a days journey and if we turned back we would have to stretch the water a week or more. It might have been this that made our decision.

I must tell you readers that I was spooked and quite firm about going back and turning around. I once again told the merchants tales about the sand creatures. But Kind Edmund insisted we go forward at least to the oasis and from there we could decide.

I argued with him about it, but the king was quite insistent. I don't think he trusted me, and as his sister agreed with him, that became our plan.

The next evening when we began our journey anew, we were all understandably nervous. Rather then traveling in a long string as had been our custom, we were bunched together in a nervous clump. The animals, perhaps picking up on our nervousness were jumpy.

Because of the full moon, I suggested that we continue onward to the oasis rather then stopping when it became to dark. The others agreed and so we went forward.

The next attack was quiet. We were in sight of our destination when Queen Lucy looked around frantically.

"Ed, Where's Fien? He was just behind me a moment ago."

The king called a halt to our party and did a quick head count. Sure enough one of the Fauns was missing.

"Ed, we have to go looking for him."

"No, Lucy. We don't know what happened to him. He knows we were heading for the oasis."

"But what if he's hurt?"

At this point the King pulled Queen Lucy away from the group and there was a hushed argument. When the two came back, Queen Lucy agreed to continue on. Though, reader, I don't think she was entirely happy with the decision.

We reached the oasis around midnight and made camp and settled down to sleep. I woke to a terrible scream. When I went out to see what the problem was, one of the dwarfs standing a bit a ways from our camp and keening over sand. King Edmund and Queen Lucy were already making their way over to him and as the others were following, I proceeded that way as well.

"Yer Highness, it's my brother. He musta went out last night sometime." The dwarf was pointing to the sand where a hand was lying, more blood staining the sand, "That's my great grandfather's ring there. And now there's nothing left of my brother." He started to wail again, a low mournful sound that sent tremors of guilt through me.

"Come on, we should get back to the trees, it might be safer there." King Edmund put a hand on the dwarf's shoulder then started back to our camp site.

I turned to follow the King, and we were almost when there was another tremor. We turned as a group to see Queen Lucy and the dwarf, who had straggling behind the rest of us, disappear beneath the sand.

"Lucy!" King Edmund screamed and would have charged after her were it not for the remaining dwarf, myself and the fauns holding him back.

There were more tremors as the sand shifted and moved where the two had disappeared. The tremors subsided, and we resigned ourselves to yet more losses, then a hand reached out of the ground and started to claw up. Kind Edmund broke free from our hold and grabbed hold of the hand. He pulled out a bloodied Queen Lucy; a dagger clutched fiercely in her other hand.

We all made our way back to the campsite a bit more subdued. And if Queen Lucy's hands trembled as she cleaned and put away her dagger, not one of us mentioned it.

The king and queen spent the day in huddled conversations while the rest of us refilled the water flasks, and wondered what was to become of us.

It was a fearful, quiet day however nothing of importance happened. That evening as we gathered around the fire we asked the monarchs what their decision was. Queen Lucy started to speak, but before she could get very far a man stepped from the shadows.

"Greetings fellow travelers. Might I share your fire?"

Readers do I need to tell you the state of shock his appearance put us in? We stood staring at him for several minutes dumbfounded before King Edmund spoke up.

"Of course you are welcome to join us. Please forgive our staring, we have had some troubling days."

"Troubling? If I may ask, are you the ones responsible for the appearance of a sandwyrm in the area?"

The other members of our party looked at each other in confusion, I stared into the flames.

"I'm sorry, I don't know how to answer that. We've heard of the Sandwyrm, our guide here has told us of them, and we've been attacked by them. But why would we be responsible for the appearance of one?"

The man looked at me, no looked through me, and I swear he saw all that I had done. He shook his great shaggy head and said, "Sandwyrms are very territorial and very possessive. They do not normally leave their homes far beneath us unless they sense something of theirs above them."

"Something of theirs?" Queen Lucy asked.

"Yes dear one. A bit of bone, or perhaps a scale, they are strong and durable. The djinn of Calormen use them in making weapons and armor. They, the djinn, have an understanding with the sandwyrms which we cannot know as it is not our story, but when others take an item made from the remains of sandwyrms, then a wrym will leave their subsurface homes and attack." The whole time the stranger spoke he was looking at me with those strange golden eyes.

"How do we stop it?" Queen Lucy asked.

"Those who have unwittingly carried such an item find that if they leave said item in the sand behind them they are troubled no more."

Kind Edmund nodded, "Right then, soon as the morning comes we are looking through all the packs to find this thing. All of them." And reader, he was looking at me as well.

We settled down to sleep, but I found I could not find a comfortable spot to sleep. Finally, when the rest of the party was asleep, I stood up and walked into the desert. The moon shone brightly on the sand and the small trinket I had stolen from the djinn glimmered slightly.

You see reader; the djinn don't just make weapons and armor from the sandwyrms.

"Are you going to leave it?" The stranger spoke from behind me, his voice deep and wild and strange.

I turned around to face him, "I didn't know. I was just expecting bad luck. I didn't know."

He looked at me for a long time; a deep searching gaze that penetrated down to the deepest parts of my self. Then he turned off and walked into the desert. Reader, his shadow was not that of a man. I swear it is as true as the rest of this tale.

I was left feeling ashamed, I couldn't face the group. So I dropped the trinket on the sand and wandered off into the desert myself.


End file.
